Clara stood in front of a long supermarket shelf stacked with jars of peanut butter, hesitating over which one to choose.
The selection was mainly divided into smooth and chunky. Each had its own appeal. She wanted both—but buying two jars felt wasteful if she couldn't finish them.
"I'd go with chunky," a voice said nearby. "Peanut butter with actual pieces has texture. Much more satisfying."
The speaker was an elderly man with graying hair and heavy stubble along his jaw. Deep lines of exhaustion marked his face, the kind left behind by long hours of work. Yet his water-blue eyes were strikingly bright—almost unnaturally so.
"Sir… were your eyes always blue?" Clara asked cautiously.
Lately, there seemed to be more and more people with blue eyes in town. It made her uneasy—far too reminiscent of that wizard.
"Why do you ask?" the man replied with a faint smile. "I think my eyes look quite good. Very lively. I like them."
"Um… blue is nice," Clara said.
But they were too bright. Bright enough to feel wrong.
Just then, a woman with the same blue eyes walked up to the shelf.
"Dr. Selvig, Barton has secured the item. It's on its way back."
"Oh! That's wonderful!" the man—Dr. Erik Selvig—said excitedly. "I can't wait to open the door!"
He casually shoved the jar of chunky peanut butter into Clara's hands.
"The door to a new world is about to open. The truth of existence lies beyond it. I only hope that in the world of truth… peanut butter still exists."
Clara stood there, dumbfounded, clutching the jar as Dr. Selvig followed the woman out of the supermarket and into a white sedan that sped away.
What does peanut butter have to do with truth?
Her head filled with question marks.
….
Somewhere deep in a wooded wilderness, Tony Stark and Thor stood locked in confrontation.
"Tin man," Thor snarled, "touch me again and see what happens!"
Being interrupted mid-conversation with Loki had thoroughly enraged him.
"Then stop stealing my prisoner," Tony shot back.
Thor bristled. "Do you even know who you're speaking to?"
Tony glanced Thor up and down theatrically.
"Let me guess—stage actor? Does your mother know you stole her curtains?"
Thor's temper flared. "Mind your own affairs, metal man. Loki will be judged by Asgard!"
"Hand over the Tesseract," Tony replied coolly. "After that, do whatever you want. Until then, stay out of my way, alien."
Tony turned to escort Loki back.
Thor did not share Tony's restraint.
Mjolnir flew.
Tony was smashed straight into the ground.
Even iron has limits.
By the time Steve Rogers arrived, Iron Man and the God of Thunder were tearing into each other. Steve hurled his shield between them, cutting off the clash.
"What is your objective?" Steve demanded, far calmer than Tony.
"To stop Loki," Thor answered.
"Then prove it," Steve said. "Put the hammer down."
"Terrible idea," Tony muttered. "He really loves that hammer."
Thor—already seeing red—brought Mjolnir down on Steve.
Hammer struck shield.
The resulting shockwave obliterated trees within a hundred-meter radius.
Thor froze.
Only then did he realize how reckless he'd been.
The fight ended in an uneasy truce. Thor agreed to let them take Loki—on the condition that he went with them.
…..
Loki was imprisoned in a specially designed containment cell aboard the Helicarrier, made entirely of reinforced alloy glass.
It was hard enough. And detachable.
If Loki tried anything, the entire cell could be dropped from nine thousand meters, turning divine arrogance into free fall.
The chamber had originally been designed for the Hulk.
If Loki was a god, he deserved "god-tier treatment."
From Thor, S.H.I.E.L.D. learned the truth: Loki commanded a Chitauri army, a force belonging neither to Asgard nor any of the Nine Realms. They came from deep space. Their purpose—to invade Earth.
The Tesseract was the key. Loki needed it to open the gate.
"Then why surrender?" Steve asked. "He can't command his army from a cage."
"It's Loki," Bruce Banner said quietly. "Trying to understand him is pointless. He's insane."
Thor bristled. "Watch your words. Loki may be unreasonable, but he is Asgardian. And he is my brother."
"He killed eighty people in two days."
"…We're cousins," Thor muttered.
…..
Tony, now out of his armor, entered the command deck with Agent Coulson just in time to hear Banner pondering why Loki needed iridium.
"It's a stabilizer," Tony cut in. "Keeps the portal from collapsing like your last one. Coulson—pick a weekend. I'll fly you to Portland to see your cellist girlfriend. Relationships need maintenance, or they collapse too."
"…Your hammer hits hard," Tony added casually.
"The portal Loki wants will be bigger," Banner continued. "Longer lasting. Raise the sails—we're moving. And someone's playing games! He thinks no one noticed. I did."
Tony talked nonstop, utterly at home. Banner finally understood what a true chatterbox looked like.
Compared to Tony, Loki was practically reserved.
After a single night of reviewing Coulson's files, Selvig's notes, and arcane physics papers, Tony Stark had apparently become a thermonuclear astrophysicist.
Everyone else followed only fragments.
Steve—former art student turned soldier—understood absolutely nothing.
Tony, however, excelled at poking sensitive spots. And Bruce's transformations were very sensitive.
Fury, meanwhile, couldn't let go of one thing: Loki turning his most loyal agent into a mind-controlled puppet. He ordered Tony to assist Banner in locating the Tesseract—and breaking the scepter's control.
"Monkey?" Thor asked. "What monkey?"
Fury explained with an analogy from The Wizard of Oz—the flying monkeys controlled by a witch's hat.
Asgard, unsurprisingly, had no such story.
"I get it!" Steve said brightly. "I've read that!"
Tony rolled his eyes.
Definitely an old man.
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